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JS CARIE Mar 2019
For a relic of honor
my onward progression and patience has to once again,
gear up for its most lengthy and wearisome, waking battle

Out beyond the center light of diving snow
And spiraling wind
Where shade sustains itself with duplicated shadows around the lake of envy

Under the hood of the forest
that stretches under serene pinholes of sprinkled radiance
Is a rehab for hollow reaches of emptying brittle skin and perpetual bubbling
Inviting fruits along with blackening kindling and timber reduce to ashes returning the cycle
A cure of open arms that create parallel warmth
the genesis of what makes fruit so inviting

If tomorrow opened path for that first step to be taken
Winds would blow so hard:
the hood of shade would push right passed the forest
splitting cracks multi directional into the pinhole for sunbeams
Allowing all collected snow to flood over the lake
Soaking all the wood
Causing any potential burning to be blackened
derailed by a dense heap of soggy innards
Consequentially taking away any chance of warmth
The initial make of comfort that raise up her open arms
Navigating through darkness
JS CARIE Mar 2019
At the same time of year
cold winds bite down and continue to blow
my knuckles encounter these tearing gusts with ripped chapping

Alone together
As the moon veils through the curtain
and the only noise outside
are echoes of crickets chirping

Embrace is proffered
Under a dim glare from the lunar glow  
a lucky duo who are in need of an other to bestow
Heedlessly collect the offer

she coats her fingers and palms in oil & aloe
one at a time our hands begin binding
regarding this oil from plants insides refined
creating a mirrored rhyme

Her hands of wisdom take on a placidity
when combing over my wounded misery
I can see the searing adopt a soothing
Into every finger
she sends the technique of love speak
what it is to see in motion and defining
...the endearing
JS CARIE Feb 2019
My recollect is of the each,
The Two
And within the Two
One is the One

Holding and using our lead and ink utensils
as if they are weapons for winning at Love,
and reasoning for our written duel

Expressing desires the voice would customarily sever into dissection

Permitting authority to the crafted scripts *******  
and may it’s barrier lay
over the possibility of a broken and scattered tongues communicate
Giving our internal intent its day
the way hoped it would speak

Expecting the requited, the return
was a pesticide over wide horizon,
Where the organic surprise of rainfall kept us neutral and thankful

And apart,
our minds maintained with
and of our other

With no need for philosophical proofs only the inner felt proof

Of forwarding shards of sentiment
with compiled assurance
and a dispatched formula
the best way we could phrase

Alongside images
that came in and held tight
in sectors tucked away and reserved from the cherished
to this day are still to be amazed

Spontaneous placement of universally synchronized jewels and stones
Of not have to have
[Only the simplified, pushed down and planted fact]
Of want her to have
So when away,
You feel a personal, singled-out
appraisal of praise
For anyone who you think of when they’re away
JS CARIE Feb 2019
This is immediate
Everyday, hour
Every time, every moment
Accompanying a lack of denial
Or refusal, is a confidence
My head is level
Eyes are straight
Heart is a little off beat
Even still,
Keeping possessed by this thoughtful nature and
the usher cast for a mind under clouds
Those chords from those organs
Equal:
My understanding
My forecast
My disbelief
My expected
My growth
My overthrown
My burn
My yearn
But I do deny what is known
from hearing the being
And seeing what I was hearing
Held my place for seasoning to marinade and stew in
A well rehearsed
And tirelessly versed
Can’t deny how much comes and
what is earned
is now learned
Forever renouncing any feels of the spurned
Laid this body down over puddles in storms
In a wonder what will form
That's the drive most important
Only the girl,
She's all that really ever matters, only this one

for her return
JS CARIE Jan 2019
With my face over her hair fallen neck
sending through my lips
what I’ve dreamed of compiled tastes

One arm wrapped her waist
The spinal curve of her back
Give-way my others embrace

In my palm falling slowly
with surrendered hold
Her reclining body takes plunge

A body wondrously dreamt by the Gods
but never to beholden
For that vessel has since long belonged
And in a quiet covet,
the Gods continue to sin

Over and across the bed
Released from my grip

Upwards into her hairline
a sweat spreading mist

Grabbing a fistful of mane
I’d lay down on the runway to attain
this flowing coat between my fingers

For the length of time
her hair has entwined me in cuffs

Pulling harder
I gladly yield in acceptance
this braid given stain
a permanent scar

Slow let go of her feathers tangled

In her neck I’m keeping
a burrow in repose

Seeing buttons undone in sync
to expose

The destination of my lips next imprint
like advanced shadowing hints

In a mechanical motion

Hair pulling emotion

Triggers upward
her chest and chin

Two spotlights on the ceiling what her ******* up send
Shaping her back an arc
like a half moons descent  

When she finishes her unbuttoning
Next for my belt she reaches
then the unzip I’ll never forget

She takes me in invest

I take her in continuous shooting

All the unfastened
unclothed

Now Firm
Quake
Earned
And Shake
The peak is reached from this encounter
defined by a collection of far to many lustfully seductive
mental hive of trapped aches
Then I kiss her lips in return she kisses me back, felt...
JS CARIE Jan 2019
Being found is not a concern
spirited truth bring wonderous burn
Not asking much in satisfaction
To walkabout break down my load of doubt
Long before it made you blue
I was born in love with you
I was born in love with you
I was magnetized by you
Proving parallel with time and polar scars
I was equally born to be spurned by you
JS CARIE Jan 2019
Why didn’t I age a little faster

While in your prime I had no clue then, what I’d be asking

How your birth came just years after prohibition

You probably told me time and again of your rise in habitation

The work you put in made your body a wall of bricks

But my ignorance was far from bliss

Your sleeping stories have a magic passion
I could beg and dig in illusion to hear more

Piece back every one of your ashes
to lend an ear with my heart open
to be in your presence and listen to your folklore
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